The Billionaire’s Fight For Redemption (Noah and Sierra) novel Chapter 4

I walk slowly towards Noah. No one needs to tell me it’s him. Even after six years, I can still tell him apart from millions of people.

I literally feel like my heart is lodged in my throat. Like someone is squeezing my lungs. Stealing the very air, I am trying to push into them. I clench my hands in an effort to stop them from shaking, but it is no use.

His black hair is as I remember. What is different, though, is his build. His shoulders are broader; he has a more solid frame. He also seems bigger, more imposing. Then again, the last time I saw him, he was twenty. He is now a twenty-six-year-old man. Of course I couldn’t expect him to stay the same.

I continue slowly, feeling as if my feet are made of lead. The wind brushes against me, as if whispering secrets I can't understand. The chill vanishes just as quickly, leaving behind a heat that makes me feel uncomfortable in my own skin

Finally, after what feels like a millennium, I reach where he is seated.

I stand behind him. Inhaling slowly. Trying to calm myself. Trying to think of what I should say. I’d been so focused on finding him that I hadn’t thought about what would come next. Now here I am, frozen and mute, standing behind him like some sort of serial killer creep.

I was just about to call his name when his deep voice broke the silence.

“What are you doing here, Sierra?”

I stand rooted, with my mouth slightly open. How did he know it was me? I shake my head at the stupid question. He hates me, so of course he would know it was me. Know thy enemy, type of thing, right?

“I could ask you the same thing,” I say, stepping from behind him.

That’s when I see them—bottles scattered at his feet. But it isn’t the bottles that have me worried. It’s the rolled-up papers.

He doesn’t look at me. Just keeps staring out at the city below. No wonder they loved this place. The view is breathtaking.

“I came here to remember,” he murmurs. “I’ve been forgetting lately. Her smell, her voice, her laugh, her smile. I just wanted to remember her.”

“Noah”

I can’t help the tremble in my voice, just like I can’t ignore the raw pain in his voice. He is hurting and missing her with every fiber of his being.

I drop to my knees beside him and rest a hand on his shoulder, offering what little comfort I can. His body trembles, as if the pain and grief inside him are fighting for release. Fighting to be let out, while he does everything he can to keep them buried.

I look at him—really look at him for the first time in six years. He isn’t anywhere near the man he was on his wedding day. His eyes are hollow. Empty. It’s like the Noah I knew died the day she died.

Today is Chloe’s death anniversary.

She passed away two years ago from stage four brain cancer. No one knew she was sick. Not even Chloe herself. By the time she was diagnosed, it was already too late. There was nothing they could have done to save her.

They had given her a maximum of one year to live, but Chloe died four months after the cancer was diagnosed.

"I miss her so much," he whispers, voice hoarse. "Why did it have to be her? Why did she have to die? How are the twins supposed to survive without her? How am I supposed to live without her?"

The questions tumble from him, one after another. I can’t answer them. I have no answers. Just silence and sympathy.

I questioned what I was about to do, but it was killing me witnessing his pain. It was killing me seeing him hurting this way. I hesitate for a second—then move closer and wrap an arm around his shoulders, pulling him to me.

To my surprise, he doesn’t resist. He doesn’t fight me. He doesn’t insult me or push me away. He simply clings to me, holding on to me like I am a lifeline, like his life depends on it. His grip hurt a little, but I let him. I let him, even though I knew I probably shouldn’t.

"Make it stop, Sierra. Please make the pain go away."

"I wish I could, Noah."

His shoulders shake silently. He doesn’t make a sound, but I know he is crying—for Chloe. For the love he lost. For everything that would never be.

"I want her to come back," his voice breaks. "I want all this to be nothing but a terrible dream. I miss her so much and It's getting harder to live each day that I am here without her."

His words scare me because they sound like the words of someone who has given up all hope. Maybe I should have a talk with Aunt Ava and see whether she can get him to see a therapist.

Since there is nothing else I could do for now, I hold him tighter, wishing I could absorb even a fraction of his pain. No matter what happened between us in the past. No matter how terrible he was to me, no one deserved this kind of grief. No one should go through the pain of losing a loved one.

It’s even worse for him because no one saw it coming. No one predicted it. One minute she was okay and the next she was gone. He never had time to prepare. To process her illness or her death. I doubt he ever accepted death.

“You haven’t told me why you are here,” he says as he pushes away from me, seeming to back to his normal self.

I don’t know how long it had been, but I also didn’t care. He now seemed more composed. I could still see the pain in his gray eyes, but he was better. Almost like releasing some of the pain he had been holding had helped a little.

My legs were numb from kneeling, so I shoved aside the scattered bottles and sat next to him.

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